From You we Live, From Us they Live

We were quite as we walked. A couple whispers were exchanged, but that was all. Not far from the church we readied. Getting out weapons of all kind, bows, swords, even a couple guns. The other side supposedly had them, so we wanted to be somewhat prepared. I could hear distant voices, coming from inside the church. It made me weary, as they weren't even trying to be quite, their voices clear in the quiet afternoon, where the only other sounds came from the birds chirping happily. If only the birds knew the hell broken loose on their paradise. Maybe, they wouldn't be so cheerful. We started to move out, each of us trained with swift steps that were easily unnoticeable. I had only taken one other moment of thought, realizing I was probably taking the easy way out, and making it seem like an honorable way, that the children would be taught in the stories and I'd be the hero. If only they knew how much of a coward I felt.

When we peaked inside the church there were many more people than I had anticipated, ready with shot-to-kill no doubt. My father gave a quick nod, and the centaurs followed him in. I peered through the side-door and watched as nobody even cared. They nodded as they entered the opening but that was all. Not even a breath was exchanged. I looked to the others, making sure they were ready. Most of them looked terrible, with long bags under their eyes and puffy eyes from crying over their lost. We put bodies of the ones who didn't need to go through around the ones that did, hoping to at least get them in. I was thankful when I pushed Amaya into the center, and she didn't fight me on it. She looked too shocked and tired to care much though.

I looked to everyone, and whispered as I got into my spot. It was something our kind chanted before war, to honor the ones who would die in it.

" You are not a hero until you have something to be a hero from. Time to be a hero. From you, we live. From us, they live."